Captured
by MarenMary93
Summary: Oliver and Roy get captured on a job in Norway. The guys after them are interested in some information they have, but our boys can't risk the lives of many to * save* themselves. What will be the worst torture? Will they make it out alive? Will someone come to their rescue in time? Challenge/Request from medicgirl! Hurt!Oliver, Hurt!Roy
1. The chase

**First of I need to thank medicgirl for all the kind words she has sent my way, and for PMing me this awesome idea for a story. When I read your idea I immediately thought it deserved its own story and not just a part of my h/c series. **

_"__I would love to read a story where Oliver and Roy (or maybe Diggle, but not one of the girls… that would be less brothers-in-arms, more soap opera, ya know?) get captured and Oliver knows something but instead of torturing him, they make him watch as they hurt Roy. Not slash or anything, but kinda the little brother relationship… And Oliver's own conscience would kill him…"_

**Thank you for letting me play around with your idea!  
I love(d) it!**

* * *

They sped across the back road of the small town. Oliver in lead position, Roy right behind him. Each on a midnight black motorcycle.

This was far off their usual jobs. It wasn't Starling City, it wasn't even in the U.S., or Northern America for that matter… Nope, this was Norway.

A cold and unforgivable country about 60-70 percent of the year, but the landscape was terrific! It was one of those few places, maybe even the only one, were Bear Grylls just had to admit he was out of his field of knowledge and just had to give in… It was that country…

Taken in considering that Norway was one of the wealthiest countries in the world, the roads were surprisingly poor. There were cracks all over the asphalt… Dangerous hazards for anyone who dared to face the road with less than four wheels. Oliver had already felt his front wheel get caught in the cracks twice today, and it made his heart skip a beat every time it happened. And each time he was just as surprised to find that he hadn't taken an involuntary flying lesson which always ended with a nice case of good old-fashioned road rash.

Another thing that was uncommon for this gig, was that they weren't chasing someone right now. They were being chased.

Chased by five Yamaha YZ450F's. Those bikes seemed to have been made for this specific purpose. Chasing racing-bikes down old poor-quality roads at the end of September, in no-where, Norway, at night.

The wheels on the bikes chasing them were all terrain, and the bikes themselves were also made for driving just about anywhere…

Their own bikes on the other hand, well… It was racing-bikes... With slicks tires… Perfect if the asphalt you drive on is nice, dry and whole… Not so good if the road is full of potholes, water, sand, gravel and cracks…

Not only was the road-quality poor, the structure of the road were poor-planned too… Or well… It wasn't meant for this kind of driving… The correct way to put it was that the Norwegian roads was developed to fit the Norwegian terrain…

The roads twisted and turned at every turn of the terrain…

…

It was way past sunset, stars lighted up the sky and it would have been a beautiful sight if it hadn't been for the guys chasing them…

The frigid weather chilled them as they drove 60mph _(almost 100kph)_ down roads where you would usually drive no more than 60kph _(right below 40 mph) _if you were in a hurry…

Oliver could no longer feel his fingers as he twisted the throttle grip further around, driving as fast as the road would let him.

He could hear Roy revving the engine behind him, closing the gap Oliver had created. Their bikes were faster, more aggressive, and on an open road they would easily have left their followers in a cloud of dust.

But this was Norway… Land of potholes and curves that were portioned the wrong way, leaning out of the turn instead of into it…

"We've got to slow down a bit before that next curve, looks like it might be a sharp bend!" Oliver informed Roy through the radio in their helmets.

"Copy that!" Roy answered as he moved his bike into a better position as they headed towards the turn.

They slowed down to about 45 mph, hoping that that would be the sweet spot between making the turn and still keeping ahead of their chasers.

It turned out to be the fastest speed their bikes would possibly make it through the bend at, as they skidded a bit before they were able to straighten out of the curve again, but they were too slow to avoid being caught by the bikes behind them.

Oliver didn't know exactly what happened. One second he was speeding down the country road, the next one, he was skidding along the surface of the road begging that he wouldn't hit any trees or other vehicles before he stopped.

In the blur of headlights and motion, he could see another bike going down as well. It was Roy's bike, the only other bike with two separate high beams.

The chasers pulled to a halt, three of them got off their bikes to get Roy and Oliver, while one of the two others called up someone and spoke in Norwegian. The last one turned his bike around and headed off in the opposite direction. God knows why…

They guys first went for Roy, as Oliver was partially trapped with his right leg caught under the almost 500 lbs motorcycle.

They picked him up from where he was trying to scramble to his feet, two held him upright, one took off his helmet and landed a massive punch square to the side of his head knocking him out cold…

They left Roy in a heap as they moved over to Oliver, who still was trapped with his leg stuck under the tank. He tried to wiggle loose, but there was no use… He might as well have been trapped under an army tank…

The guys stopped a few feet away from him and muttered something in Norwegian, then looked from one to another… They discussed some more, and then agreed on something.  
-Oliver had no clue what…

They went along with a different procedure for him. They took his helmet off first, leaving the heavy bike on top of him before they knocked him out too…

* * *

**Well...  
Let's just say that I try to drag this one out a bit...  
I could have written this whole thing in about 2 500 words in total, but I TRY to make it 10k...  
Try...**

**Hope you liked the start!**


	2. Roy wakes up

**Well... Since I worked on this during the weekend, I have a few chapters already. I just need to read through them and make a few changes first... **

**Here's another one for you guys! Hope ya'll enjoy!**

* * *

His head felt like he had been partying for a whole week, with way too much alcohol and far too few hours of sleep the whole time. His head spun and his jaw felt weird.

His left elbow was warm and felt stiff, even though he couldn't get it free to test it. His hands were tied behind his back, and his knees felt like he had attempted power sliding on top of a hard-packed gravel road.

On second thought, that was almost what he had done earlier that night, or yesterday. Switch gravel-road with blacktop and gravel, and that was exactly what he had done. He didn't know how long he had been out for, just knew that he had been knocked out at the side of a road.

He looked around, and his eyes stopped as he saw Oliver propped up against another wall, tied to a hinge in the floor. He was still out of commission, somewhere far off in la-la-land…

Roy looked down at what he was wearing. The pants of his suit were ripped open at the knees, and coagulated blood clung to the red leather of his suit. He was willing to bet 50 bucks that his left elbow matched his knees. It sure felt like it.

Ohhh… His head ached; it ached like only a concussion can make it ache!  
That's what you get for being knocked out…

…

He scanned the room, they could be anywhere… It looked like an old, abandoned house, from the looks of the room they were in…

The white paint on the walls were flaring off, the grey paint on the floor were worn down by years of people walking across it. There was one single light-source in the room, an old, naked, light bulb hanging from a cord in the ceiling. It looked like it was missing some kind of bowl or something.

Roy let his head rest against the cold wall, staring at the ceiling... Cobwebs were to be found in every corner, and there was a patch of water damage by the one door leading into the room.

He tugged at the rope knitting his wrists together, and grimaced as the the movement however did not sit well with his left elbow…

* * *

**Hope you like it so far!  
I'm having a great time with this story at least!**


	3. Oliver wakes up

**Let's wake up Oliver!**

* * *

Way later, Oliver moaned as he struggled his way back to consciousness. The sudden sound startled Roy a bit, but he was pleased to hear Oliver make another sound than strained breathing.

He saw Oliver lift his head wearily and scope the room, he stopped when he saw Roy.

"Are you hurt?" he then asked before Roy was able to ask him the same question, his voice was raw and his face showed signs of agony. Signs Roy was willing to bet that his friend tried his best to hide.

"Not much… Some scrapes and a swollen elbow, that's all…" Roy answered, knowing that Oliver wouldn't let him get away with avoiding the question. "How 'bout you? You look a bit roughed up!"

"Aah… I'm fine…" Oliver lied, but was given away as he winced when he tried to shift position.

"Yeah… I can see that!" Roy rolled his eyes, "Fit as a fiddle!"

He kept quiet as Oliver struggled to get into another position without causing himself too much pain. Oliver let out a grunt as his left leg helped his right one into another position on the floor. It was obviously painful.

"How bad is it?" Roy asked when Oliver finally settled down and relaxed. "Scale 1-10…?"

"Four I guess…" another lie… Roy recognized them by now. He knew his buddy was in a lot more pain than he was willing to admit. At least without pressure…

_Double it… His pain-level is eight… _Roy made a mental note to himself.

"Other than your leg, is anything else hurt?" he then asked, hoping that Oliver would just tell him straight away.

Oliver didn't answer straight away, he was obviously checking himself. Checking whether he should call the level seven pain in his left hand for a level three or something, or if he should just keep quiet of it.

"Nah… I'm good!"

Roy raised a questioning eyebrow towards his friend. He was not biting… He knew better than to trust Oliver when he told him that something didn't hurt…

A few long seconds later, he caved in. Or well… Something in the neighborhood of caving in…

"Okay, I may or may not have sprained my left wrist and/or thumb…"

_Sprained… More like fractured or dislocated…_ Roy deduced.

* * *

**I couldn't let him get away without some injuries too, but I promise; I do try to stick to idea...  
...I just take a few detours...**


	4. First round part 1

**Here comes the next chaper.  
I don't remember whether I mentioned it earlier or not, but this is a few years into the future...  
(Don't know if it will matter in this story yet... But that's where I think the story happens...)**

**And thank you guys for the awesome reviews so far! Thanks!**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

The blue door opened, and a weathered man stepped inside. He was the picture of an old sailor; grey beard reaching down to his shirt, worn and wrinkly from working outside his whole life. There was no telling how old the man might be. He could be anywhere between 45 and 85…

He walked past Roy, and stopped in front of Oliver. He hunched down in front of him, and his knees creaked as he sat down. As if they begged for mercy…

"You're the mastermind of this operation, aren't you?" he asked Oliver directly. "Do you really think two people in masks and suits is enough to stop me?"

He nudged Oliver's right foot as he asked, causing Oliver to bite back a moan.

"Who else knows you're here? Whom are you working for? Does anyone else know about the package?" the man stood back up, and his knees complained even more as he did so. "Anyone coming for you boys?"

This time he kicked Oliver's right foot, it wasn't that hard a kick, but it sure was painful and effective.

Oliver's face twisted in pain as a whimper left his lips. He pressed his eyes together and breathed through gritted teeth, trying to cling on to what control he had left.

"Tell me! Or I will introduce you to pain you've never felt before!" his voice was cold as ice, when he leaned down and spoke to Oliver at face-level.

His steel blue eyes looked dead inside, they were of that kind you would think could burn through anything. Kind of like the ones Oliver was sporting too…

"Bring. It." Oliver said with a determined growl.

…

A second man walked in through the door. This one was much younger, or at least he looked much younger. Maybe in his mid to late 30's.

He walked over to where Oliver sat, pushed him forward and cut the part of the rope that was tied to the hinge.

Then he literally lifted Oliver up into a standing position. Oliver visibly winced as the move made something within his leg shift and jar.

The younger man did a sympathy wince, but then he placed one hand on Oliver's collar and pushed him towards the door.

Roy felt sorry for him when he saw how heavily he limped. He hadn't seen it that bad in years…

* * *

**Yeah, yeah...  
I know... I am supposed to torture Roy...  
But why can't I play around with Oliver first?**


	5. First round part 2

**First round part II**

**Hope you 'enjoy'**

* * *

Roy wished that he could turn deaf, wished that he could avoid hearing what was being done to Oliver in the next room.

He was sitting alone on the floorboards of the cold and worn-down room. On the opposite side of the paper-thin wall, awful things were happening.

He heard the threats, heard the smacking sound of what he believed to be a whip, he heard fists connecting with flesh. He heard it all…

Through the paper-thin walls he could hear how Oliver's breathing became more and more strained. He could hear as the legs of the chair met the floor again after powerful punches or kicks. He was even sure he had heard bones breaking.

He could hear screams, cries, sobbing and painful hiccups from the other room…

It made him sick to his stomach. Knowing what was being done to Oliver in the other room, and that he had no chance at stopping it. Not before Diggle came anyway…

…And that could take a while.

"No. Never!" Oliver yelled back, still determined after a couple of hours of torture.

"Looks like we might need to attack this from another angle…" one of the strangers said from the other room.

There was a pause, maybe they were looking at each other? Maybe they had gone through seven sets of plans? Plan A, B, C, D, E, F and G…? Now they were looking at option H…?

"Yeah, I think it's about time…" the bearded man's voice spoke from the other room, "Put him back in there!"

A few seconds later, the door swung open, and the same guy that had pushed Oliver outside was supporting him on their way back to where he had been sitting earlier.

The man helping him had a uncomfortable expression on his face. Guilt, sorrow and pain smeared across his features. He looked like he was about to hurl himself…

Oliver's face was more bruised than it had been when he left the room, he had been stripped down to his boxer, and his body was covered with new wounds, bruises and swellings.

Roy felt his heart sink, no-one should have to go through that… Especially not Oliver…

Oliver couldn't bear any weight on his right leg anymore. And by the looks of it, it was totally understandable.

A wound stretched from the middle of his thigh down to where his boot had been. It varied from shallow road rash to full on flesh wound… Roy was ready to bet that he even saw a splinter of bone sticking out of Oliver's leg. The parts of his leg that wasn't torn open was badly bruised, and something just looked wrong in in his right-knee area. Roy couldn't quite make out what just yet…

The man begged for forgiveness as he helped Oliver sit back down. His face twisted in sync with Oliver's as his leg was jostled. This man was likely brought into all of this, not by choice, but by force… A man without options…

* * *

**Option H... I wonder what that will bring...  
*Evil grin***


	6. Second round part 1

**Hey, thanks for the reviews so far! **

**Hope you like what I have in store for you!**

* * *

Oliver didn't say anything once he was back in his place. This time handcuffed to the hinge behind his back. He just sat in the corner, favoring the ribs on his left side where a bruise of epic proportions started to form.

His breathing was uneven and forced. Like every single breath was a battle. Something that it probably was…

Roy knew Oliver well enough not to ask how he was doing right now. He knew most of what had been done to his buddy over the last couple of hours, and none of it was pretty.

…

20 minutes later three men walked into the room they were in. One of them were carrying a chair. A bloodstained chair… It was the old bearded man and two men Roy had never seen before.

Roy looked at Oliver who was barely able to keep himself upright against the wall, and hoped to God or whatever higher powers that could help them that the guys wouldn't harm Oliver any more.

The chair was placed in the middle of the small, cold room.

The two unknown guys moved over to where Roy sat on the ground, and cut him loose from the hinge. His hands were still tied behind his back.

Two sets of handcuffs clipped around his wrists, and then the rope was cut. Before he had time to react, his right hand was cuffed to the chair in the middle of the room.

"UNDRESS!"

Roy just looked at the bearded man. He was not going to strip off his clothes in front of that man!

"I said UNDRESS!" the man repeated and delivered a surprisingly powerful blow to Roy's abdomen.

"Don't do this to him! He doesn't know ANYTHING!" Oliver lied from the corner he sat in.

"Oh… We're not doing this for him to spill… We're doing this to you!" the old man said and turned to Oliver. Who still had nothing on except for his boxer briefs.

Oliver's skin had formed goose bumps, and he was shivering. The room they were in was cold, freezing... If Roy had to guess, he would say the temperature was somewhere around 50 oF. (10 oC)

"Undress…"

Roy tried lifting his left arm up to unzip his jacket, but his elbow refused to bend that much. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as the tender joint complained at his futile attempt. He then bent down to let his right hand do the task, figuring that he looked pretty dumb in the position he was standing in.

When the hoody was fully unzipped, he started shrugging it off.

He managed to get a better look at his left arm. It was black and blue, and the asphalt had taken its fair share of flesh.

"Shirt and pants too!"

He figured obeying was his best option. Better than starting the beating early…

* * *

**Okay, I'm stretching this out...  
Very unlike me... I know...  
But I hope you like it anyway!**


	7. Second round part 2

**Here I am again!  
Thanks for the reviews so far!  
**

**Ready with more torture and pain! **

* * *

Oliver wanted to beat the crap out of the men in front of him. It hadn't bothered him too much when they had been beating and cutting him, but this was TORTURE!

He couldn't do anything as the man with the platinum blonde hair carved a cut down Roy's upper arm, leaving a trail of red gushing down his arm. Oliver was powerless… All he could do was sit there, and beg them to stop harming Roy.

He could see as Roy tried to squirm away from the blade, only to be held in place by the big brown-haired one. The one with a bit more muscles than necessary…

"OLIVER, DON'T TELL THEM ANYTHING!" Roy's voice was strained, his posture was the complete opposite of what it usually was. He looked small and fragile. Roy was hurting, and it was his fault… Oliver felt like a complete failure, he had gotten them into this mess… It was his fault that they were being tortured… He shouldn't even have allowed Roy to tag along on this one…

The man with the almost white-blonde hair put the switchblade down, he nodded to the other man. The one who looked more like a Belgian blue oxen than a human being…

Without speaking they traded places. The scrawny blonde knife-man walked behind Roy, and the human cloud went to work.

Oliver started feeling sick, he had gotten the same treatment himself a few hours ago, by the same eager interrogators… He knew how it felt, and he knew this was his fault. Roy wouldn't have been here if it hadn't been for him. All this was his damn fault!

He tugged at the handcuffs holding him in place, pain shot up his left arm. His own left wrist was a mess, he knew it… And his thumb had been in and out of place multiple times already tonight… But all of that didn't matter! All that mattered right now was whether or not he could help Roy!

The dull sound of fist against midriff made Oliver cringe. What was even worse was Roy struggling to get air to his lungs. The wheezing sound he made as he attempted to get some much-needed oxygen down his windpipe, and the coughs that followed when he finally made it!

Oliver winced at each and every blow Roy took. He could feel every hit deep within his own gut. Only that this felt much worse than when he had been beaten and tortured himself.

He had a straight view of Roy's face. He could see as he worked not to crack under the pain he was presented with. He could see as Roy gritted his teeth every time a new punch hit him. He could hear the sound of Roy's breathing becoming more and more forced as the pain grew worse... How his breathing turned shallow not to put strain on his ribs…

…

The old man with the beard stood idly in the opposite corner, but with a sly grin on his face. One that told Oliver;_ this will end once you spill your beans…_

But Roy had told him not to tell them. Roy still told him that, but now by keeping his own mouth shut. Oliver knew he couldn't risk all the lives they tried to save, just to save Roy from this agony. But that didn't mean he didn't want to…

"He doesn't know anything!" Oliver tried again, "You won't get anything out of him! I'm the one who knows, torture me instead!"

Oliver would much rather be tortured to death than to see them force pain upon Roy. He would much rather have knives carving him to the bone, than to know Roy was being tortured.

Roy was innocent, he was tossed into this by hard luck. As far as Oliver was concerned, Roy had never taken an active decision to do this with his life… He was just tagged along…

He himself on the other hand, had selected to put away bad-guys, to help people who needed it… I was his mission. He had made the decision time and time again. There had been moments when he had had the chance to get off the rollercoaster and put down his bow and arrow, but he had kept pushing… He always kept fighting…

"Awww, look… He still don't get it!" the blonde knife-enthusiastic cooed, "He still don't get that we figured that THIS is the best way for us to hurt him the most…"

Oliver yanked at the handcuff keeping him captive again. Pain shot through his arms and shoulders, but he didn't care… All he wanted was to make the three men in the room suffer!

He yanked once more, and this time his left thumb dislocated and his left hand slid out of the cuffs. Pain hit him first, then more pain…  
…and even more...  
Somehow, no one heard the sound of the left part of the handcuff hitting the floor, and one of Roy's cries had disguised his own moan…

He sat back, resting his head up against the cold wooden wall… His back had warmed the spot where his back rested, but he was getting uncomfortably cold. Shivers and tremors made his injuries flare up, jarring and ripping at every broken bone, bruise and cut he had sustained.

His right hand worked the left thumb, trying to reposition it. He winced in time with a kick being sent to Roy's upper arm. He wasn't sure himself if it had been because of the kick, or because his thumb had found the way back to its previous place…

Then he felt around for the left side of the handcuff. If he could find it and straighten it out, maybe he could get it through the hinge, and get both his hands free…

His plan worked as a charm. Once he had pushed the cuff around, he could easily slide it through the bolt in the floor. Without anyone noticing it…

A sickening pop sounded from where Roy sat, Oliver looked up to see Roy grimacing due to his dislocated left elbow. The man who looked like the hulk, except for the color difference, had taken a grip around Roy's forearm and pulled with his whole weight, making the joint come apart.

Roy were sobbing, his eyes were shut tight. He was in a world of pain, probably some of the worst he had ever felt… And he didn't know if the finish line was ten yards away, or 100 miles…

Sometimes not knowing when it would stop, was the worst part of pain. If you knew it would stop in ten minutes, an hour, the next day, you could push through it. But if you were suffering with the same amount of pain, and the only thing you knew was that it wasn't going to stop, or that it would only get worse…  
Well… It somehow made it worse… Much worse…

Oliver had to do something, but he had to be smart about it… He had a serious disadvantage with the whole unable-to-put-weight-on-his-right-leg-situation, not to mention that he had been beaten the crap out of a while ago.

He looked down at his knee, it was swollen to an unrecognizable size and he could no longer see where his kneecap was, or well, you know… Should have been…

"Please stop!" he begged when he looked back up. He knew that they wouldn't, but he had to try anyway…

"We'll stop, when you start talking!" the bearded man said and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oliver, please don't tell them!" Roy's voice was weak and laced with pain. He didn't have much energy left for keeping his game-face on… Right now three things flew around in his mind.  
Keep breathing.  
Don't tell them what they want to know.  
Diggle will come.

Oliver knew that he had no chance against the three of them, and even less of a chance against the eight men he knew that they were in total. They could even be more than eight, and then he would have a chance equal to a fish in a volcano… He was going to end up deep-fried and crispy…

No matter how bad he wanted to charge ahead, he had to wait it out… Had to play the cards he had been dealt as best as he could…

He heard the deep rumble of an engine. He hoped to higher powers that it was the SUV they borrowed from A.R.G.U.S. for this mission.

…

The guys traded places again. The semi-hulk went behind Roy and the slender blonde guy stepped in front of him again.

The blonde started with thrusting the blade of his knife down into Roy's thigh. Roy let out a cry of pain, which made something inside Oliver collapse. He had to do something, he had no time to wait for Diggle or anyone else who might not find them at all!

Oliver placed his left leg close to his butt. Ready to push himself up off the ground. He cast a glance at his right leg, which was going to be a pain in the ass to put any weight on, or even to move... But he had to do something, he couldn't just sit there and watch anymore.

Even if he just managed to distract the men from torturing Roy, it was worth it…

…

In a great effort, he pushed himself to his feet. All the pain he experienced almost made him topple over. His stomach churned and rolled as he managed to get a hold of something resembling balance.

He moaned as his right leg started throbbing like it was competing in the Olympics, and his ribs protested loudly.

He managed to get the guys attention, and they stopped hurting Roy at least for a little while…

"Didn't Adam tie him up?" the scrawny man asked with a baffled expression.

"Yeah… he did!" Oliver answered by himself and grinned, "But I got loose!"

He held his hands up in front of himself to show the handcuff dangling from his right wrist.

The hulk-ish man charged at him, followed by the thin guy.

Oliver got in a lucky punch to the ginormous man's temple, sending the bag of muscles crashing to the ground. The thin man was a bit more tricky.

The knife cut into his upper arm, the whole blade disappeared into the meat of his left shoulder and pierced through on the other side. At the same time as he stabbed him, he sent a boot flying towards Oliver's mangled leg. Oliver sank down, the share amount of pain getting the better of him.

When the guy went to get his knife back, Oliver managed to grab his knee. As he yanked it forward, the scrawny man fell to his back, knocking his head hard on the floorboards.

The old guy was starting to move, heading in Oliver's direction. He was going to put a stopper on this himself… And he was not going to let an injured man beat him like his two tools…

Oliver understood that he had to do something, preferably before the man reached him. He didn't have a lot of options… In fact, he only had two that he could think of;  
Give in…  
…or…

He grabbed the handle of the knife and pulled it out. He didn't care what general first-aid said, this was pretty much life or death he reckoned.

The knife slid out, and he felt warm, wet trails made their way down both sides of his arm. He weighed the knife in his hand, trying to find its point of balance, then he flicked it across the room towards the bearded man.

The shocked expression as the knife slid in perfectly between two of his ribs was vivid. A cough, then another one, followed by a spray of blood. The red liquid gushed from his mouth, and stained his grey beard. The man lifted a hand to check the place where knife met man, finding that his hand came back wet with crimson.

The man looked back up at Oliver, who was sitting in the same corner as earlier. He took one step, but the second step wouldn't bare him and he went down on his face. Dead…

* * *

**Was it okay? Or did I fail miserably?**


	8. In a Flash

**Thank you all so much for the AWESOME, AWESOME reviews!  
I have to admit that I really enjoy this!  
Thanks!**

* * *

Oliver probed his knee trying to spot the kneecap, which had went AWOL on him. After a couple of painful seconds, he managed to find it on a vacation by the inside of his knee…

He knew that putting weight on a knee with a kneecap in the wrong place would be like begging for disaster. Not something you should do, at all…

He cupped one hand around the dislocated piece of bone, wished for the best, and slid the thing back where it was supposed to be. He wanted to scream, the pain was close to unbearable…

After giving himself a minute to gather himself, he pulled himself up once again. Then he looked over at Roy, who was looking a bit better now that he wasn't being tortured anymore.

"How are you doing, Champ?"

He gave out a grunt of pain when his leg protested as he started limping over to where Roy sat.

"Better than you…" Roy answered with something resembling a smile, before he spit out some blood. "You really shouldn't be standing at all, by the looks of it…"

"Well, you don't look all that fit yourself at the moment…" Oliver's face twisted with pain as his right leg gave him a not so friendly reminder that it was broken.

When he reached the bearded man, he stopped and searched for the keys to the handcuffs. Smiling as he found them in the first pocket he tried. He un-cuffed himself, then he hopped over to where Roy still sat captured.

The cuffs sprang open and Roy stood up. His left arm guarded close to his torso, his right hand hovering gingerly above the dislocated joint.

"Thanks!"

"Don't thank me yet… We're still in some pretty deep shit…" Oliver said as he unlocked the cuffs from the chair. "Get some clothes on… You don't want to catch a cold…"

Roy rolled his eyes at that last remark, "Okay mom! You should put on something too…"

Oliver hopped over to where the two unconscious men laid. He cuffed the small one and stole the big one's clothes, before he cuffed him too…

…

Out of nowhere gunfire sounded from somewhere on the opposite side of the building.

"It's not us they're trying to scare..." Oliver said when he saw Roy's expression. Then he pulled on the sweater he had stolen from the beater. It was actually a little wide around the shoulders, something that was uncommon for him.

"You sure?" Roy asked as he tried to button his pants with only the use of his right hand, his left elbow still not set.

"If it was for us… They would have entered the room, and then they would have started shooting. Not the other way around…"

Oliver sat down in the chair that the men had strapped Roy to. He was careful not to put any weight on his right leg as he placed it stretched out in front of him. Then he started working the jeans he had stolen up his legs.

The door flew open, and a flash of yellow zoomed across the room. The red blur with a yellow tail stopped abruptly in front of Oliver and Roy, it was Barry Allan. The Flash.

Gunfire was still sounding from somewhere else in the building, and Barry took their puzzled looks as a question of why.

"Diggle is still down there… Keeping them occupied…" he looked at them, "Wow, you guys look like you've been through a blender!"

"Yeah… Those guys sure did their best…" Roy answered, still trying to fasten the top button of his pants.

Barry looked at Roy's futile attempt to win the battle against the possessed button. It was almost comic as he struggled.

"You know I could do that so fast that you wouldn't even notice it…?" he finally said.

"I know, but I've almost got it now…" nothing is as embarrassing as having to get help buttoning your pants because you can't do it yourself.

"Really! Because this is almost painful to watch…" Barry said looking Roy in the eyes.

"Oka…"

Roy was cut off by Oliver's hiss as he worked the jeans over his injured knee. His face contorted in pain, and his muscles taut.

Roy looked back at Barry, "Okay… Do it…"

"Already done…"

"What…" Roy looked down and found that the top button of his pants had already been set. "Thanks!"

Barry nodded, and looked over at Oliver.

"Looks like we should get the two of you to a hospital…" he said as he moved over to Oliver, ready to help him up and out of the building.

"Take him first…" Oliver said with a nod in Roy's direction as he realized what plans Barry had. "I can wait a minute…"

"Okay… If that's what you want…" Barry said and walked over to Roy who was now struggling with his jacket.

In a flash of light, Roy was fully dressed.

"Ready?"

"Wait, what?" Roy said when he once again realized that he had been dressed without knowing it…

"Let's get you out of here!"

"But Oliver…?"

"I'll be fine, just…" Oliver winced as he made an unconscious move with his right leg, "just go. Barry will get me within a minute anyway…"

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Oliver paused, "I'm sure!"

Then Roy and Barry was gone with a flash.

…

Oliver had just managed the painful process of putting on his 'new' jeans as Barry arrived again.

"Get Diggle out of here…"

"After I get you out!"

The sound of gunshots still sounded throughout the building. Sharp, angry sounds ringing through the air.

"No, NOW! He's got a family!"

"You've got Felicity…" Barry tried to reason, "…And I've heard the rumors…"

Oliver stared at the man in front of him. They hadn't told anyone yet… Well, at least he hadn't…

"Get Diggle out of here now! It'll probably be a minute before they even realize that he's gone…"

All of the sudden there was silence. The kind of silence that can only follow after pure chaos. One minute it feels apocalyptic, and then it just turns quiet… It is never as quiet as it is then…

Both Barry and Oliver were frozen in their tracks, none of them knew what would happen next, none of them knew what had happened downstairs.

…

One pair of footsteps climbed the stairs. One pair of boots stopped at the top of the stairs. Waited. Then moved on. They could hear one door after another open, searching. The person didn't say anything, he was anonymous as he walked the hallway.

Their door finally opened and the man standing at the door, with his gun raised, was John Diggle. He lowered his gun as soon as he had confirmed that Barry and Oliver were the only people awake in there…

His face lit up when he saw Oliver sitting up, but it dropped quickly when he saw what condition his friend was in. He strode over and knelt down beside Oliver's chair. He took in the sight of Oliver's beaten face, and the blue jeans that had already turned red.

"How do you feel?" Dig asked with his dark voice, brown eyes fixed on Oliver's grey-green-blue-ish.

"Fine."

Diggle opened the mental 'Oliver-English dictionary' in his mind and found the translation for 'Fine.' meaning; 'I'll live…'

"Okay…" his eyes trailed down to the blood soaked jeans Oliver wore, "We should get you out of here, get you to a doctor or something…"

**Thank you so much for the support!  
I would have a huge problem explaining how much it means to me!**


	9. Move

**Here comes another chapter...**

**And thanks for all the incredible reviews!**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Moving Oliver proved to be a more difficult task than moving Roy, and there were two reasons to it.  
One; Oliver was a bigger guy, which also meant he was heavier and more difficult to carry.  
Two; His right leg couldn't be bent without causing him great amounts of pain, and causing his kneecap to slip out again (something they found out the hard way…)

"I think we better take you between us, are you up for that?" Diggle asked Oliver after he had helped him set his kneecap once again.

Oliver swallowed hard before he nodded. He knew it was going to hurt, but it was probably his best option.

At Oliver's approval, Barry and Diggle helped Oliver out of the chair again. Then they balanced him between them. Oliver let out a pained breath as the motion of lifting his left arm terrorized his ribs.

"Where's Roy?" he asked as they started making their way to the door. One slow and agonizing step at the time.

"He's in the back of the car…" Barry answered, "…aaand he's got a gun… Don't worry 'bout him!"

Diggle let out a short laugh, "Yeah, besides… I don't know which one of these would be a threat anymore… I mean; Except for that guy that let us in, most of these guys are just about ready to view the grass from below right now…"

This time it was Oliver who almost laughed, but his ribs quickly turned the laugh into a groan.

…

When they reached the stairs, Barry took Diggle's place under Oliver's left arm. The staircase was too narrow for all three of them to make it down together, it was even too narrow for Oliver and Diggle to make it down together… So Oliver used the railing as a crutch, and leaned on Barry for support.

Oliver bit his bottom lip to distract himself from the pain; it was an honorable attempt, but not to much use… He was sweating at the effort it was to hobble out to the car, breathing was a battle and he had to take brakes every fifth meter or so.

…

Once they had passed the stairs between second and first floor, Diggle moved in to help Oliver again.

"Oliver, one thing…" Diggle said and waited for Oliver to acknowledge him, "Please don't ever do that to me again…"

* * *

**Yeah... Welll...  
Are you guys fed up with this story by now?  
Or are you still interrested in more?**


	10. Waiting in the car

**Here comes another chapter for you!  
**

**Thank you so much for each and every review! It's just; WOW!  
THANKS!**

* * *

His elbow throbbed as he waited for Dig and Barry to come with Oliver. The shooting had stopped and he only hoped that it meant Dig was the last man standing…

He looked down at his slightly deformed arm and swallowed hard. Even though it was hidden by his jacket, he could still see that it was a complete mess! One thing that had baffled him was that Oliver hadn't asked if he should set it for him back in the house. He shuddered at the thought of what that might mean…

The minutes stretched out, and he started getting restless… They should have been back in the car by now. Shouldn't they?

After all… Barry was the fastest man alive…

…And Oliver was probably the most stubborn man alive!

…

He winced as his elbow served him up with a fresh new plate of pain-alá-hell. He would definitely have to get it checked out at a hospital this time…

He tried moving his fingers, a task which almost sent him crying. He gasped as white specks formed in front of his eyes. This was not fun, not fun at all!

But he knew it was worth it, it was worth the pain. As long as those men, and the others they worked with didn't get a hold of those papers.

The papers, the package, contained information and blueprints on how to build a new kind of missile. A missile working kind of like a drone… They were 'slow' until you fired the warhead they carried, it could be operated from anywhere in the world, through basically any computer as long as you had the passwords and the software… Even from simple cellphones…

He couldn't say that he understood _WHY_ anybody would even think of making plans of such weapons. Which of course could be fitted with nuclear warheads… Just to be sure what got hit was screwed majorly!

…

He startled when someone knocked on the window of the SUV, the glass was tinted so whoever it was couldn't see him…

It was the man that had walked Oliver in and out of the room. The one that most likely had been pushed into this mess…

Roy didn't trust him anyway… He was on the wrong side of things…

His hand tightened around the grip of the gun. If the guy tried to break through the window, he would put a bullet through his arm without blinking…

But he didn't, the man stepped back and waited. Sat down on a stack of pallets lying on the ground a few yards away. Wise choice…

Roy tried keeping as quiet as he could. His left side felt like it was at fire, and his knees were bleeding, his right shoulder would be sore tomorrow, and he _knew_ he would look like a raccoon for the next couple of weeks…

…

What took them so long?  
Roy would have guessed that Barry could have run all around the world by now… And somehow this still took forever…

He was getting anxious. It shouldn't be taking them this long…

He shifted his position, as carefully as he could… He didn't want to cause himself pain, or to get noticed by the guy who obviously was named Adam…  
For all he knew, Adam had a gun and was willing to shoot him…

* * *

**Yeah... some things sure take it's sweet time I gues..  
Like moving someone who have a majorly messed up leg...**


	11. Relax

**Here's another chapter for you guys!**

**Thanks for all the lovely and wonderful reviews so far!  
They make me really happy!**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

A dark silhouette grew slowly bigger. Three men edging along slowly. Two guys almost carrying the middle one.

As they came closer, Roy recognized the three shapes. It was Diggle, Oliver and Barry… Maybe this was why it took them so long?

He could hear Oliver let out subconscious revelations of the pain he was in. Small grunts every time he had to take a hop, moans every time he was allowed to stop and relax, small whimpers as every move he made jarred one or more of the broken bones under his skin.

When they finally reached the car, Barry and Diggle greeted the man named Adam, and Roy relaxed.

"Hey, thanks for letting us in!" Diggle said as he started fumbling with the door handle.

"Well, after I saw what they did to him, I couldn't do anything else…" the man said, he sounded truly sorry.

Roy tucked away the gun he was holding, figuring that there was no need to use it anymore… They were safe now, Dig and Barry had saved them, and Adam wasn't dangerous.

The door opened next to him, and Diggle peered in. He was still supporting Oliver…

"I suppose you don't want Oliver leaning on you the whole way back to the city, and a hospital…" he said nodding towards Roy's abused arm.

Roy nodded, and opened the door on his side. He climbed outside, winced silently as his arm gave him a shock of pain, then got into the passenger-seat in front.

…

"Do you want to drive? Or should I?" Barry asked Diggle as they stood outside the vehicle, still holding Oliver between them.

"You can…" Dig replied, "But first we need to get him settled in the back…"

He gazed over at Oliver. The discomfort was getting to him, and he looked exhausted…

Barry and Diggle helped him into the backseat. Barry went first carrying Oliver's upper body (It fascinated Roy how strong Barry was, he was a lot stronger than he looked at first glance… But maybe that's what happens to you when you get hit by lightning?), and Dig followed with his legs.

Once Oliver's legs were inside the car, Barry climbed out and shut the door behind Oliver's back. Diggle sat in the opposite seat with Oliver's legs in his lap.

"How are you feeling, boy?" he asked Oliver as Barry fired up the engine.

"Not that bad…" the lie was easy to catch. From the way Oliver's eyes were squinted, to the way his breath came out uneven, to the way he held his shoulders. His words said one thing, but every other evidence pointed to another reality…

"What have I told you about lying to me…?" Dig's voice was harsh, but not unkind. He just wanted Oliver to take him seriously, and stop his usual I'm-Fine-scheme…

"Okay…" Oliver moaned, "It's not pleasant!"

"Not pleasant…" Diggle figured that that would be as honest as he got Oliver this time, so he settled back against his seat, careful not to move his legs.

…

On their way out to the highway, Roy and Oliver groaned, grunted and hissed in unison as the SUV found potholes, bums and rocks all over the road.

Not pleasant didn't even start to describe it! It was an utter agony for the two of them to sit in the car as it bounced up and down the full ten miles (16 kilometers) of old overgrown gravel road back to the slightly less bumpy blacktop…

* * *

**Okay... This became sort of a in-between chapter...  
It feels that way...**


	12. -but not for long

**OooooH! Thanks for the reviews!**

**Here comes another chapter for you! Hope you enjoy...**

* * *

A loud pang rang through the air before they reached the main road. The vehicle swerved a bit before Barry managed to get it under control again.

"What was that?" Diggle asked as he pulled his gun out of his holster. He looked over at Oliver, who was trying to steady his right leg with his hands.

His face was contorted in a grimace, his eyes were shut tight and he was gritting his teeth against the agony his leg caused him. Correction; his whole body caused him…

Barry looked from Roy, who was in a similar position, over to John sitting in the backseat.

"I don't know…" his deep husky voice came across worried, "might have been someone shooting at us…"

"Sure sounded like it!" Oliver managed to press out as he slowly started to ease up again.

Without another word, Barry jumped out of the driver's door and took a lap around the car.

"One of the tires blew…" he declared as he stuck his head inside the car again less than a second later.

"That's what you have to expect on these awful roads, I guess!" Roy entered the conversation, his voice was thick with pain and he was guarding his left arm.

"Yeah… You're proba…" Diggle was interrupted by the sound of another shot, followed by the familiar high-pitched sound of a ricochet.

"Or not!" Barry said quickly.

Before they knew it they were under heavy gunfire. With nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

In other words; _they were screwed!_

…

For the first time in what seemed to be forever, Oliver was taken aback by what was happening around him. He didn't know how to react, didn't know how to save his buddies or himself…

All he really could do was worry.  
Worry about his friends, who was stuck in the car with him. Who was there because of him…  
And worry about Felicity back home…

Felicity…  
The perfect, sweet, kind and loving person he had the honor of calling his fiancée. He loved her with all his heart, and he knew she felt the same… They had had their bumps in the road, as any couple… They had been together and broken up so many times by now, that no one really had the count of it… But for the last year and a half… They had been steady!  
He was lucky to have her. Lucky to have her innocent smile and cheerful laughter around on his dark days. Those days where he wished to be buried below a giant rock, or wished to be alone and sulk in his own misery… He was lucky to have her. She could brighten up any of his pitch-black days, and turn it into sky-blue dreams.

Fear.  
He realized that he hadn't feared for his own life in more than a decade… Within the first six months on Lian Yu, he had come to realize that it didn't matter. Fear makes you vulnerable. It screws you up…  
He was afraid that his friends would die for his mistakes, and for once; he was afraid that he would die too…

Love.  
The reason he now feared for not only his buddies lives, but also his own. He was afraid to never see Felicity again. A love so deep it already hurt. It hurt when they were together, and it hurt when they were apart… But he knew that he wouldn't have it any other way…  
He was afraid of never meeting his beautiful fiancée again, and he was afraid that he would never get the chance to see their baby, never even get the chance to know whether it was a boy or a girl…  
He had so much to live for!

He was scared!

…

The sharp, ringing sound of a bullet piercing the metal of the trunk brought him back to reality again. His heart pounded in his chest, almost at its maximum limit. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, and dulled his injuries a bit.

A painful realization dawned on him. If they stayed there… They would die…  
All of them…

"Barry!" Oliver yelled over the noise, his voice rough, "Get Roy and Diggle out of here!"

Barry looked up and nodded, he swooped out and grabbed Roy from the passenger seat and carried him away in a speed that only he could reach. Then he came back for Diggle.

Barry was about to carefully lift Oliver's legs off Diggle, to free him, when Oliver himself jerked his legs back. Causing his messed up kneecap to take a fun trip of its own again…

"Go, Barry! Get yourselves to safety!" Oliver managed to croak out as the pain nearly overwhelmed him. Even though it would SUCK, with a capital F, it was better if he was the only one to die there… It was better to let himself die, than to get three great men killed along with him.

Barry raced away with Diggle. And Oliver was left alone in the backseat of the SUV, on some old dirt-road in the middle of cold, harsh Norway… His knee was all kinds of painful, his body hurt, and he knew he was going to die…

He leaned back against the door. Tried to relax, just let go…  
His thoughts wandered off to happier days, with his blonde tech-girl. The smell of her hair, the taste of her kiss, the touch of her soft hands… He longed for her in what he knew to be his last hour…

* * *

**Well...  
I'll just be incredibly cruel and leave this chapter hanging untill tomorrow or something...  
*Evil smirk***

**Me haz a plan... **

**(But you'll have to wait untill tomorrow, Norwegian time, to find out what it might be... )**


	13. Roy

**Thanks for the reviews!  
I have to admit that for once, I'm close to speechless... **

**...**

**One of you asked;  
YES, I am Norwegian... **

**(But I do not site with my villains...)**

**...**

**Here comes another chapter, this one is more like an in-between chapter... You know I like torturing you...  
I will post the next chapter soon, like today...**

* * *

Roy sat on the ground when Barry and Diggle arrived. Tears were streaming down his face, and he was past the point of crying without noise. He sobbed audibly as he tried to wipe away one of the tears that escaped his eyes.

He felt stupid, but he had his reasons…  
And he figured that he was allowed to cry as much as he liked.

His elbow caused him constant pain by now, but that wasn't why he cried. No… He could deal with the physical suffering…

What was worse was that he had no way of dealing with this whole mess.

He had no way of helping Oliver, who was downright sacrificing himself for them. Oliver was basically giving up his own life, so that they could live…

…

He had understood it when he saw Diggle and Barry help him to the car. He had understood that it was next to impossible to move Oliver, unless you were two people… Preferably more…

Now Oliver was stuck in the car, with no where to hide. He was a sitting duck… Just waiting for the one bullet, which was eventually going to hit him…

There was no way of getting Oliver out of the car alive, not without being too slow…

…

He sobbed as the distant sound of guns kept ringing through the air…

He felt guilty. His life wasn't worth more than Oliver's. If he had to guess… He would have bet that his own life was worth less than half of what Oliver's was worth…

Oliver was always morally right. Kept his head straight, saved everyone no matter what the cost…  
Just like now…

He felt bad, because Oliver deserved so much more… He deserved everything good, everything nice and pleasant.

He always thought about others before himself… Not many people do that… Not many at all…

…

Over the past seven years, Oliver had become somewhat of a brother to him. A big brother who always had his back. Who always looked out for him, and helped him out in whichever way possible.

Whenever he and Thea had a fight. Oliver was there…  
He would just sit there and listen to Roy ramble on about what had caused the fight, what insults had been thrown his way, what he had replied… Whatever it was, Oliver would sit and listen to him…  
He didn't need to say anything, he just was there…

Whenever he had one too many at a bar…  
Oliver would come and pick him up. Sit night watch to be sure that he wouldn't drown in his own vomit… Aaand help him through the regret and anxiety of the next day…

Hell… He was even helping him plan the perfect proposal to Thea…

…

Oliver was killing himself for them. He was letting himself die to save their lives…

Roy felt guilty.

* * *

**Just felt like taking a trip to Roy's mind. A bit of a dark place I guess...  
I tried my best, but I'm not sure if I should be proud of it or not... Probably not...  
I should probably have done something different with the whole 'like a brother' part... **

**Okay...  
Now I better finish the next chapter and quit torturing you...  
(for a little while... Maybe...)**


	14. Am I going to die NOW?

**Thanks for the support!  
**

**Aaand... Back to Oliver!**

* * *

The gunfire was still rapid. Still angry. But now, he wasn't scared. Wasn't frightened anymore…

He was ready…

As ready as he would ever be…

If nothing else, his leg would stop hurting, his ribs would stop aching and he would be left in a soothing blissful dark. Where nothing hurt…

…

All of the sudden, the door behind him flew open… He almost fell out, hadn't it been for the firm arms ready to catch him.

He let out a sharp cry as his leg attacked him with lacerating, vicious pain. Pain so horrible that his vision seemed to blur…

"I'm sorry buddy!" a deep husky voice whispered behind him. Or maybe it screamed…?  
It felt like it was far away, yet close.

Close, because he knew that his body was being held upright by something, or someone… Arms… Someone… Someone who was not him…

Far away, because it sounded almost like a faint echo of someone's voice…

...

The burning feeling in his leg sustained, it was keeping its ground…

He felt like passing out, felt like dying… Felt like dying was a better option for him…

…

He was placed down on the ground. In shelter of the car. It hurt. Everything hurt.

He was close to losing his hold of consciousness, his vision was about to fade into the darkness. He was welcoming it. He was meeting it with open arms.

Strong hands shook his shoulders. A deep, gravelly voice said his name. Oliver could hear the desperation, but he didn't catch the words…

…

Barry's heart raced… Normal medical computers would have thought that he was dead… His heart beat faster than it used to, faster than what was normal for him when he pushed himself…

His hands were clammy, his legs were trembling…

He lifted Oliver out of the SUV, and winced as Oliver's breath caught in his throat. He could feel a ball of pain and guilt starting to form in the pit of his stomach, grasping for more ground. The sight of Oliver's injuries, those which were not hidden by clothing, made him cringe.

He couldn't fathom how much agony Oliver was experiencing. Then it hit him, a reality so cruel he wanted to cry for his friend, Oliver wouldn't heal in a couple of hours like himself. Oliver would suffer for weeks, months… Maybe even years to come…

The dark ball of lead forming in his gut grew bigger, heavier…

He placed Oliver on the gravel road, hidden from the path of the bullets.

Oliver was fading away, but Barry needed him to stay awake. He grabbed a hold of Oliver's shoulders and shook him, yelled his name…

Oliver's only reaction was a last attempt at keeping his lids apart, but he lost consciousness soon enough…

…

Even though it was just a momentary setback, Barry couldn't help but shed a few tears. Frustration and anger was building up inside him. He had to stop this!

As Oliver laid in the safe shadow of the car, he sprinted away once more…

He didn't see where the shooters were, he only knew the direction. He ran towards wherever they were, dodged the bullets heading for the car.

…

The pain startled him, and he woke up again. He had somehow managed to move his leg without knowing it, and now he was suffering for it.

He was alone, on the ground… Why was he on the ground? Why was there gunfire?

Then he remembered…  
He turned his head and tried to get a grasp at what was happening around him.

The gunfire stopped abruptly. One second it sounded like the middle of an action scene, the next was complete silence.

He let his head fall back down, the shooting had ceased. He might survive after all…

* * *

**Ever have that ' I-know-where-I-want-the-story-to-go,-BUT-I-have-no-idea-which-detours-I'll-take-before-I-get-there' problem?  
That's me right now... **

**I have so much stuff swirling around in my head, and NO real plan for putting it down into a simple story... **

**Like;  
My plan is... K...  
But...  
Before K happens, I'll go through A,B,C,Z,R,G,V,L,Y and D...**

**hahaha... That's a problem...**


	15. A world of pain

**Thanks for all the truly AWESOME reviews!  
You're AWESOME!**

**Here comes another chapter for you!**

* * *

Barry came back, checked on him. No new injuries, but a world of pain…

Then he checked the car. Two tires blown… A couple of bullet holes in the hood…

When he opened it up he saw oil everywhere… It wouldn't start, or if it did, it would probably go up in flames within seconds…

"Looks like we'll have to do this the painful way…" Barry stated as he headed back to where Oliver had propped himself up to his elbows, leaning mostly on his right elbow as his left side hurt. "The car is bust!"

Barry looked at Oliver. His clenched fists, his set jaw, the way he breathed through bared teeth…

The bowling ball of second-hand pain swelled even more. He dreaded the fact that he would have to cause Oliver more pain in order to help him. He knew how to do it, but it would be painful for Oliver, hence painful for himself…

"Okay…" Oliver's voice was croaky, filled with suffering. The heavy feeling in Barry's gut became even heavier. He had the urge to cry on Oliver's behalf… "Just, get it over with…"

Oliver tried to push himself up to a sitting position, he hissed as something served him up with a new platter of lightning bolts. He chewed on the inside of his cheeks before he looked up at Barry with glassy eyes. His bottom lip was quivering against his will, and when he blinked a stray tear made a trail down his right cheek.

…

A few miles further down the road, almost at the point where the abhorrent gravel-road met the slightly less dreadful blacktop, Diggle and Roy waited.

"Barry will get Oliver back… Just relax…" Diggle was hunched down in front of Roy. He was trying to calm his friend and colleague.

Roy still had an unfamiliar waterworks thing going on, salty drops running down his face like rivers… Every now and then he let go of sobs and whines, he had no way of controlling it, no way of stopping…

"It'll be fine!" Diggle coaxed, not sounding too confident, "Oliver's made it through worse than this!"

Who was he kidding? He didn't even believe himself…  
But he hoped…

He hoped for the best, but mentally prepared himself for the worst…

…

"Where does it hurt?" Barry could have kicked himself right after the words left his mouth… Stupid question, and why would he remind Oliver of his aching body…?

The glassy eyes turned down, glancing over the body they were connected to… Then they found him again.

"Everywhere…" the voice answering didn't sound like Oliver, it was broken, defeated… The pain and fatigue was getting the better of him.

He winced with sympathy… Ran a hand through his brown hair as he turned around, thinking, planning… How was he supposed to deal with this?

He heard Oliver swallow, hard. "The leg is the worst…"

"Mhmmm…" Barry was stressed. He really didn't want to cause his friend any more pain, but he also wanted to get him help as fast as possible…

"I can run and get a spare car…" he thought out loud, "or I can carry you…"

Oliver squeezed his eyes shut, he would have to choose between two evils…  
Getting another car would probably take an hour or two… Because of the car…  
Being carried… Being carried was… well… emasculating…

But he didn't want to lay around there for any longer than he had to. The ground was sucking heat right out of him, making his body temperature plummet if he waited too long...

"Just carry me…" he was defeated, being carried was the lesser evil… It would be excruciatingly painful, but he would get to a hospital faster… And he wouldn't have to freeze anymore either… "But stop when you get to the other guys."

Barry let out a sigh… "You sure…? It wil hurt… A lot!"

Oliver nodded… "I'll freeze if I stay here…"

"I can help you inside the car…"

"I'll freeze inside the car too…" Oliver grunted as he tried to place his left leg close to himself, ready to get himself up.

Barry was at his side within a second, helping him stand.

Before Oliver's eyes, Barry divided into two.

"Just one of my party tricks…" he answered Oliver's puzzled looks. "Your eyes aren't fast enough to keep track of me… The gravity pulling on your body might not be able to follow either. Worth an attempt I guess…"

Oliver just nodded, he was baffled by this new information of Barry's powers.

…

Barry picked him off the ground and started running.

The 'ride' was smoother and less painful than he had feared for. All though his leg hurt immensely, it was far better than ending up with hyperthermia…

* * *

**I almost consider myself effective! Wow...**

**I think there will be more, I just need to write it first...**

**But now I'm off to my ****_second_**** parkour training EVER! (I am not athletic in any way... And I probably weigh more than most girls starting parkour do... But hey... I try... And it was FUN!)  
Last week I was so SORE I could barely walk afterwards... I looked like a newborn giraffe trying to handle its too long legs for the first time ever!**


	16. Frozen

**Hey!  
I'm so sorry that I didn't post anything yesterday... I was a bit busy...**

**But here's a small chapter for you guys!**

**BTW: Thanks for the cool reviews so far! I think it's at 45 reviews right now, and I'm just AMAZED!**  
**I never even thought that was possible for any of my stories!**  
**THANK YOU!**

* * *

Sobbing. Sobbing was the first thing he heard when they stopped.

His head spun for a few seconds before he managed to focus. When it all stopped rotating, he saw Diggle down on his knees in front of Roy. Roy was the one crying, his body convulsed as he let out sobs of fear and guilt. His head was buried into John's shoulder. John was letting his left hand stroke up and down Roy's back, trying to stop him from bawling. Just like when Sara had her tantrums.

The difference being that Sara was five, soon to be six, and Roy was a grown man…

"He'll be fine!" Diggle's voice was just above whisper, "He always is!"

He clearly tried to believe in his own words. He wasn't just comforting Roy, he was also comforting himself.

It pained Oliver to see this. It made some part of his soul hurt, and the torment it caused was almost worse than the injuries to his body.

He stood frozen for a second more, he hadn't even realized that Barry had set him down. Barry was standing beside him, supporting him. Waiting for him to address his friends, and tell them that he was back. This way he hopefully wouldn't look like a 'quarter-to-dead' lump just being dragged along…  
It was an attempt to lift their spirits, brush away the pain and the terror of the night…

But all he could see was the shape of two of his friends, hoping that he was still alive. He couldn't move, couldn't put three words together to tell them 'I am here' or 'I am back'… He had no connection with whatever part of his brain that delegates tasks for the body… He was just…  
Frozen…

It was first when Diggle let go of a long overdue sniffle, Oliver was brought back to reality. He shook his head, clearing it.

He saw two of his best friends he had left in this world crying, and forgot all else… (Because that's what happens to you in these kind of situations.)

His body went into autopilot and he stepped forward, ready to embrace them in a hug, tell them that everything was all right. But he yelped as his right leg shot pain, so agonizing it made his teeth hurt, through his nerves. He would have fallen over if it hadn't been for Barry grabbing hold of him again.

Diggle's head snapped up, his puffy, wet eyes found Oliver's stature in the dim light of pre-dawn. He snorted, wiped his eyes, and started to stand up.

"Oliver?" his voice was broken, small…

Oliver didn't trust his own voice at the moment, as his leg throbbed more violently than ever. Punishing him for his lack of thinking…

He nodded, hoping that Diggle would see it… His right arm was clutching at his leg, while the other one was laid across Barry's shoulders, keeping him upright.

* * *

**Thank you once again!  
I will try to post another chapter today... If I get it finished...**

**Okay, I know this was kind of short, but...  
...but I felt it was better to divide this and the next one...**


	17. Hang on!

**Here's one more for you!**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Roy! Oliver's back!" the tone of his voice had shifted all together.

Roy almost made Oliver topple over as he charged at him. Forgetting his own injuries, and forgetting Oliver's.

Oliver cried out when Roy hit him with his body. They fell back, bringing Barry down with them.

The ground knocked the air out of him, and the weight of Roy on top of him didn't help with the matter. Pain was everywhere… His leg, his chest, shoulders, arms…

As some air found its way down into his lungs, he let out a long moan. He writhed in pain as Roy tried to push off him and stand up.

While clutching his own dislocated elbow, supporting it and keeping it close to his torso, Roy looked at Oliver twisting on the ground. He let out a small whimper himself, before he went on to speak.

"I'm sorry!" his deep voice was thick with emotion, "I didn't mean to hurt you! I was just so happy because you are alive…"

Oliver was gasping for air, gripping after every stray of control he could find…

_'__Pull yourself together! It doesn't hurt that bad!'_ he thought to himself as he laid there. _'Show them that you're not that injured! Show them that it's no big deal!'_

He grunted before he finally got a grip and pulled himself up to sit. His leg caused him great grief as he sat there. Chewing on the inside of his cheeks didn't really help… It only left the inside of his mouth raw and sore…

He dug his thumbnail into the meat of his middle finger. And he focused on that pain…

Someone had once told him that the brain could not grasp more than one pain at once…

Whoever had told him that was a liar…

…

A minute or two later, he had cooled down. Still in a lot of pain, but it was manageable… Nothing more, nothing less…

"It's all right…" his throat was dry and his voice was croaky. "Just give me a minute!"

…

"Barry… Get Roy to a hospital!" Oliver said after a while. "That elbow of his better be looked at by a professional…"

"Uhm… I THINK that YOU have worse injuries than I do…" Roy butted in, "You should go first!"

"Roy! I'm gonna be fine!" Oliver argued audibly, "Just let Barry get you to a doctor, and I'll come soon…"

"Oliver, you really should get to a hospital as quickly as possible…" Diggle reasoned, squatting down beside Oliver trying to make eye contact in the dim morning light.

Yeah… He knew that the faster he got to a hospital, the better… But!  
If he left first, and there were more of those men out here… Both Diggle and Roy would be in big trouble! After all… He could take a few more minutes of staying out here!

He looked around, the first sunrays were starting to climb over the mountaintops in the east. Touching the land west of them long before it would reach them.

He had to find a logical reason for Roy going first, he had to find a way of making sure that he was safe before he would let himself be saved…

"I just need a few minutes of rest… Take Roy first!" he started out, contemplating what he was going to say next. "I just need to get my stomach settled; I think that if I get another 'ride' the next couple of minutes… I'll hurl…"

He did his best to sell the act. He knew he was a bit pale from losing as much blood as he already had and from the sheer amount of agony and smart he was in…

"Look, if you're feeling sick… That's probably another sign that you need medical attention!" Diggle looked at him with a firm expression…

"I think it's just motion sickness…" Oliver said and turned his head looking at Barry. He winked with one eye, so that only Barry would see it. Hoping that he would be on his side in this…

Barry covered his face with one hand, shaking his head in disbelief. Then he squared his shoulders and walked over to Roy…

"Well… Looks like tough guy over there can't handle rollercoasters…" his tone was resigned. He knew Oliver was stubborn, but this was taking the cake…

"But…" Roy started, but was cut off by Barry…

"You know there ain't no use in discussing with him…"

Roy's head dropped, he knew Oliver wouldn't give an inch… "Yeah… Well… I guess you win…"

…

When Barry and Roy left, Diggle sat down beside Oliver. He looked at the blood-soaked stolen pants, and the makeshift bandage they had made out of the skinny guy's sweater.

He leaned forward, stretching his back. Letting go of a small whimper as his back creaked.

Oliver knew that Diggle was struggling with his back. He had been for quite a while… But they never talked about that stuff… Never talked about old injuries acting up, unless it was placing them on the sideline.

Oliver felt guilty for that too…  
It was his fault that Diggle had back problems. He had injured it on one of their missions… Almost two years ago, he had taken the quick route down from a balcony… He had spent three weeks in the hospital, two weeks in a wheelchair and three months on crutches… All because Oliver asked him to tag along for a mission.

"How you feelin'" Diggle asked when he pulled back up.

"Good."

In the early daylight he could now see an upset look flash across Diggle's face.

"You're on autopilot. You know that?" Diggle stared at him, and Oliver was positive that he was seeing all the way to the deepest pits of his soul. "I mean, you're clearly not 'Good'! Hell, you're not even in the realm of 'Okay'!..."

They sat there in silence for a while, Oliver's eyes wandered down to his legs. Diggle sat back and leaned on his elbows. Had it been any other day, any other scenario, they might have truly enjoyed the sight of the beautiful sunrise…

The temperature dropped a degree or so as the sun started making its way over the horizon, a shiver ran through Oliver's body leaving pain along its path.

"You shouldn't be freezing…" Diggle noted as he started shrugging off his winter jacket. "And you're not really dressed for being out here… And you're wet…"

He draped the large jacket over Oliver's shoulders.

"You're going to get cold!" Oliver protested and tried to return the jacket to Diggle

"You stay here, try not to freeze to death…" he paused, "I'll go get some fire-wood…"

…

Within 5 minutes the kindling was starting to take flame and grow into a fire. Diggle had also found a few branches of spruce that worked as an insulating layer for them to sit on.

He was concerned for the safety of Oliver, and cursed himself for not thinking about the temperature earlier. It was below freezing, there was frost on the ground clinging to moss and lichen, making the knee-high small mountain birch extra beautiful.  
But it was causing them problems.

The bonfire was growing larger, fast. That was a good thing!

How could he have forgotten to think about Oliver in this freezing weather? It was subzero temperatures and Oliver was drenched in his own blood! The wet clothes was sucking the heat straight out of him, but there was not much he could do about it. Except lighting a fire and giving him more of his clothes.

Diggle couldn't tamper with Oliver's soaked pants, because they were under the bandage… And the bandage needed to stay in place. It was stopping Oliver's wound from bleeding more than it already had, and there was a chance that if he tried to take it off for even half a minute, Oliver would bleed out…

He was nervous. He didn't know how much blood Oliver had lost so far… All he knew was that it looked like a lot…

…

Oliver was getting weaker, and the time dragged out… He started having problems with keeping his head up, then he had to lean on his elbows instead of hands, soon he was lying flat on the makeshift ground pad. His strength was fading, and Barry was still not back.

"Just stay awake boy!" Dig's voice jerked him back to lucidness again.

His mouth was dry, his head hurt… Scratch that… Every freaking fiber of his body hurt, even his hair! He didn't even think that was possible! But yeah… It felt like it!

"Hurts…" he slurred, not awake enough to form full sentences anymore…

"I know it hurts, Oliver! But you've got to stay awake!"

Oliver could feel one of Diggle's massive hands on his left shoulder. He had no clue when it got there, though… He tried opening his eyes more, then he realized that they weren't open at all… He managed to make them flutter for a few seconds, before they fell shut once again.

…

30 minutes after Barry had left with Roy, he came back for Oliver.

"The distances in this small country amazes me!" he stated as he stopped right in front of where Diggle had lighted the bonfire. "I mean such a small country, and the distance you have to travel to get to a hospital!"

He looked around and saw Oliver laying on the ground, covered with almost all of Diggle's clothes.

"What happened?!"

"H-h-he go-got w-w-ww-wea-weaker-rr…" Diggle stuttered as he shivered from the cold, "W-w-woundn't want h-him-mm-m t-too-to get hyp-hype-hypert-thermia!"

"Yeah… Now you will probably have to get treatment for that when I get you back to the hospital…"

"G-ge-get…"

"Get him to the hospital… I get it!" Barry said and quickly scooped up the unconscious lump named Oliver. He removed a few of Diggle's clothes from him and threw them in Dig's direction. "Get some clothes on. You can't sit out here in a t-shirt and boxers…"

Diggle nodded, and started pulling his jacket on.

"I'll be back… Keep warm… And if you suddenly start to get warm for no reason… DO NOT UNDRESS YOURSELF!" he stared Diggle down, freezing wasn't the most dangerous part… The sudden sensation of getting warm was… There was a reason why most casualties of freezing to death was found in their underwear, or even buck-naked…

Diggle nodded… "I k-kn-know!"

And Barry took off again, running as fast as he could. No longer caring whether or not it might hurt for Oliver, but concentrating on keeping him alive.

* * *

**Hope you liked it!  
I'll be taking a break for the weekend... **

**And I'll be leaving with one of my semi-evil cliffhangers... (I think...)  
Dun, dun, dunnn...  
Will everyone make it?**

_**I felt incredibly evil about this chapter... **_  
_**I feel the need to apologize to both you as readers, and the characters!**_  
_(And myself)_


	18. They have to be hungry, or?

**Hi!  
Sorry it took such long time for me to update this. I haven't been able to post since we don't have any internet connection to speak of at home... And it's easter... So college is closed...**

**Thank you all so much for the AWESOME, SUPER-KIND words!**

**Anyhow...  
I have a few easter eggs for you!**

**Well... These next few chapters will come in a non-specific order...  
Untill I can collect all the boys in one place again. **

* * *

When he woke up he first admired the brand new, white cast hugging his left arm. A long arm cast, stretching from his armpit down to his fingers. The cast itself supported by a blue sling, which secured his arm close to his body. He didn't feel anything in particular, they probably had him on some good meds…

He tried to wiggle his fingers, something he hadn't been able to do without cringing since yesterday. He was pleased to find that his fingers worked as they should… Even after getting his dislocated elbow set surgically…

He was drowsy, blame it on whatever they used to knock him out… It felt like he had slept a night with a cotton ball in his mouth, and that the inside of his mouth somehow had adapted the hairy texture of it…

…

He looked around, he saw a monitor showing his heart rate and blood pressure. Considering what his body had been through the past 48 hours or something, he was well inside his 'average' limits.

His eyes wandered around the room. It was likely a four-person room, but he was the only one in there at the moment…

_Wait, where's Oliver? And Dig, and Barry?_ He raised his healthy arm and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with his palm. _Where am I?_

The 'hospital' part of the answer was pretty easy… But which hospital was a harder question to figure out.

His eyes darted around for clues on where he was. Most hospital rooms he had been in had at least one clue of which hospital the room belonged to… He found nothing… Or if he did, he wouldn't have known…  
The Norwegian word for 'hospital' was obviously not 'hospital'…  
And his geography skills pretty much stopped at the border of Starling City... (Well, unless it was one of those world famous places like New York, London, Paris… Berlin… Err… Sydney… Hong Cong and Beijing… Or some random places he had been with the team…)  
If he just saw a few words of Norwegian put together, he would have no idea whether it meant 'Norwegian hospital' or 'Order your hotdogs here'… Besides, he only knew the name of three cities in this country… Oslo, Bergen and Tromsø... He didn't see any of those cities written on anything in his room…

_Speaking of the team… Where were they…?_ He was starting to get anxious. The last thing he really remembered about either Oliver or Diggle was Oliver being stubborn as usual and demanding that Roy should be taken to the hospital first…

He knew that it would have to take some time for the doctors to surgically set an elbow, he didn't know exactly how long… But it would have to take way more than an hour…

And in one hour, at least Oliver would have been here… Wouldn't he…?  
Maybe he was in surgery…  
Yeah… That was probably it! He was in surgery, and Diggle and Barry were hungry… That's it!

He let himself fall back against the pillow. And before he knew it, he was passed out again.

* * *

**Hope you enjoy!**


	19. Will I?

**And we have to check in with Diggle, don't we?**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

The cold air set needles to his skin. A billion small stings every time there was a breeze…  
Which of course was all the time… It was Norway for crying out loud!

He flexed his fingers, trying to keep the circulation going in them. It seemed like the movement was delayed… His fingertips were pounding, and it only felt worse when he held his hands close to the fire… But he had to get some warmth into them again, and even though it was painful he just had to grit his teeth and get past it.

His nose felt like wax, or like something brittle… He wasn't sure…  
The freezing temperature made his nose runny. Thin clear liquid which felt a lot like nosebleed…  
He dried some off with the sleeve of his jacket.

He was shivering, he should probably do something. Just sitting still beside a bonfire wasn't enough…

He stood up, put his hands into his own armpits. One way of keeping them warm. He began running on the spot. Raising his heart rate and hopefully his body temperature.

It helped. He was getting warmer, but his hands still felt like they attempted to become icicles. Maybe he could force them to be warmer? Maybe if he used his arms more?

He dropped to the ground and started doing push-ups. His heart rate started going faster. Blood surged out to his limbs again. His cramping muscles started easing up as heat crept back to his joints again.

…

His mind filled with thoughts. About life. About friendship and family. Would he get to see his wife and Sara again? Would he get to see Sara grow up? Would he get to be there when she graduated high school? Would he be able to meet his grandchildren when that time came? Would he get to put the fear of God into Sara's future boyfriends?

And Oliver…  
Oliver seemed to be mortally wounded. Seemed to be in life-threatening danger…  
Each wound was maybe not that bad… A broken bone could be set and get better. A cut would heal with time and care… But the combination of broken bone_S_, deep cuts and wounds, the freezing temperatures…

It sure was the perfect recipe to kill a man…

_Dear God! Let Oliver get through this, and please let me live to see Sara become a mother…  
(In like thirty years… No hurry…)_

…

Time crawled by… Push-ups became harder and harder to do…

He collapsed…

* * *

**Thanks for all the reviews so far! I am flabbergasted by all the kind words! **


	20. Heavy

**Aaand back to Oliver and Barry! Unconscious Oliver...**

* * *

Oliver was heavy. Barry struggled as he ran at top speed towards the city and the hospital. His lungs burned worse than he could ever remember! His legs started feeling like butter and Oliver was getting heavier by the second.

As he ran towards the hospital everything else blurred. The colorful autumn fauna became an orange blur beside him.

He could feel Oliver's uneven breathing against his arms. How his thorax jerked as he tried hauling air down to his lungs, how he writhed in pain as he tried to exhale…

He had to hurry. Had to get Oliver to the hospital as fast as his legs would take him.

…

He could see the outer edge of the city now. He could also see that Oliver was turning into a slightly pale shade of milk…

"Ow…"

The moan ripped at the root of Barry's heart.

"I know, I know, buddy!" he tried to comfort his friend as he entered the suburbs. Just a minute or so more and Oliver would be in the hands of competent doctors.

…

He stopped outside the doors long enough for them to open up, then he ran over to the nearest person in a white coat.

"He needs medical attention! NOW!"

The blonde woman wearing the coat with a nametag reading 'Dr. Olsbu' looked up at him, then at Oliver in his arms. Her eyes went wide and she started walking towards the door at the end of the corridor.

"Follow me!" she almost yelled for him to hear. "What happened to him?"

"A lot!"

"Yeah… I can see that!" she pressed a button on the wall, and the doors opened. "Care to be a bit more specific?"

"Crashed his motorbike, dislocated his thumb, managed to crack a few ribs… Errr… His left shoulder tends to pop out, I wouldn't be surprised if it had happened this time too… He got beaten up badly by a couple of goons. One of them tortured him with a knife… He might be hypothermic… It took a while for me to get to him." Barry blurted out.

"I meant what have happened to him now?"

"Yeah… All that happened during the past 48…" Barry said as he placed Oliver down on a gurney, "I might even have forgotten something… I'm not sure!"

"You've got to be kidding me?" she put her hands on her hips. She had problems wrapping her head around how all that could happen to one person in only two days.

"I wish!" Barry said absentmindedly as he tried getting some layers of clothing off Oliver.

…

Less than ten minutes later, Oliver was under surgery. And Barry was talking a nurse through what had happened. Or at least a version of it…

An hour later he was ready to run off to get Diggle. Poor guy had to be freezing his ass off!

* * *

**Thanks!**


	21. Collapse

**Look, I'm sorry that it's been a while since the last time I posted anything of this story... I've been busy with work... Aaand I hit a bit of a dry spell...**

**Sorry it took a while!**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

The fact that he hadn't eaten in the past six hours or so started taking its toll on him. Most people would have no real problems with it, they might feel a bit hungry if they are the good kind that actually eats each fourth hour, but no biggie… Him on the other hand…

He could easily go six-eight hours without food… IF he didn't run around… And for the past six and a half hour, he had been running almost non-stop…

His legs burned, his muscles seemed slow… His lungs were trying to claw their way out his windpipe… They hadn't attempted that since before he got hit by that lightning… He felt like he was about to pass out! Maybe he was… About to pass out…

He had to get to Diggle before that happened! He had to get Diggle to a warm place before that happened!

…

As he topped the last hill, he could see Diggle's form on the ground about a hundred yards ahead of him. He wasn't moving…

He pushed on, he had somehow found an extra reserve of energy. Well… At least for the time being…

He skidded to a halt beside him, and checked his vital signs. His pulse was a bit slow and a bit faint, but not alarmingly so… He flipped him over onto his back, and shook his shoulders.

"What…" Diggle was drowsy, like he had slept for a year, or three…

"You've got to wake up. We've got to get you out of here!"

Suddenly more alert, John set two brown eyes to Barry's yellow-green ones.

"Did I…?"

"I think you passed out…" Barry answered before Dig could finish his sentence, "But we've got to get you out of here… Like now…"

He helped Diggle up. Yep, he wasn't any lighter than Oliver… Why did these guys need to be so buff? Barry was ready to bet his ass that they would fight just as efficiently with a few pounds less! At least they would be easier to carry later on…

"You look like crap…" Diggle managed to say just before Barry was about to lift him off the ground…

"Don't look all that good you either!"

...

A few miles off the hospital, he just couldn't take it anymore… He stopped and fell to his knees, Diggle rolled out of his arms.

Diggle got up. He felt a lot better now. He was warmer, by the same reason people's clothes sometimes caught on fire when Barry carried them. Friction…

He pulled himself to a standing position, and looked at Barry's collapsed form beside him. Maybe _he_ should get _him_ to the hospital instead… He himself was fine, a bit cold, but nothing a warm shower wouldn't cure… Barry looked like he hadn't slept in weeks…  
Usually that, accompanied by passing out, calls for a trip to the hospital… Yup, hospital…

He managed to pull over the next passing car that came along, and after a short, fake, explanation the woman let them hitch a ride to the hospital…

…

As soon as they entered the doors of the hospital, Diggle submitted Barry. First when his unconscious friend was rolled away on a gurney, he felt how cold and tired he was himself…

* * *

**Yup... I think I've tortured EVERYONE by now... (Everyone in this story SO FAR...)**

**Thanks for all the reviews so far! I love it! THANKS!**

**(Sorry that my chapters have been a bit short lately... My process of just writing and hoping for the best doesn't always work out...)**


	22. We're all good

**Okay, I wrote another chapter today...  
Hope you enjoy this...**

**Let's enter Felicity **

* * *

Seeing him like this, it hurt… It hurt everywhere…

Diggle had called. He had called and said that all of them was at this hospital, with various degrees of injuries or medical problems. He had told them to catch the next flight over to Norway, but that nothing was at a life-threatening severity… He had told them that it looked like most of them would need a little R&amp;R after this mission, and maybe a lot of help with daily issues… Not him, but maybe the others… He had also told them to relax, knowing that they would get scared on their behalf…

But seeing Oliver like this… It hurt her…

Oliver was still sleeping from his last surgery, he hadn't been awake since he was submitted more than 24 hours ago… If she hadn't been awake dealing with the 'morning sickness' (they should really call it 'all time sickness'…) she tried to hide from the rest of the gang, well except for Oliver of course, she probably wouldn't have noticed the call coming in at 3:48 a.m.….

Felicity placed her left hand above Oliver's right one. His hands were warm, like they always were…

A single teardrop rolled down her left cheek, she swiped it away swiftly. It wasn't her job to cry… She really needed to work on that…

Her right hand dropped down to where an old sweatshirt hid her growing belly… She was starting to show, but they weren't ready to tell anyone yet… So much could still go wrong… (Okay, she might have told Barry, and Laurel… And her mom… And a few more… But she would let Oliver tell Diggle, Roy and Thea…)

…

His right leg wasn't put in a cast just yet, it was in a bandage. And put in traction… It didn't look comfortable, but she trusted the doctors… They probably knew exactly what they were doing…

She looked up at his bruised face, even though he was out cold, she could still tell that he was in pain. The crease in his forehead gave it away…

She could see the bandages covering the newest additions to his scar-collection through the hospital outfit he had on. His scars were a part of him. She had come to acknowledge that, and with time she even started liking the sight of those scars… (If she had told herself that she would get kind of 'turned on' by the sight of scars like that, ten years ago… She would have recommended that she took a trip to a shrink… Because scars and wounds generally freaked her out back then… But a couple of years had passed, and she had changed…) But she always hated the new ones… New scars still freaked her out…

Her eyes trailed down his left arm, and found a brand new, white cast. It felt like someone grabbed a hold of something in her midriff and gave it a stern squeeze as her eyes landed on it. She knew how much Oliver despised casts. He really hated them… The cast only stretched from his elbow and down, but she knew it would bother Oliver anyway… ESPECIALLY since it was extra-long on his thumb…

She knew, that he knew, that casts was to help with the healing process. She also knew that she was engaged to the most stubborn man on the planet earth…

A smile fled across her face as she thought back to an incident a few years back… Involving two of the guys fracturing their arms on the same mission. Both Oliver and Diggle had managed to get ALMOST identical fractures to their_ radiuses_… (Was that what the plural of radius was?) Both of them had fractured their right arm, and Oliver was nagging at Dig to get a cast put on it, and vice versa…  
Sometimes she was truly impressed by their hard-headedness…

…

Half an hour later she was still standing in that same spot, when his hand squeezed back and her eyes found his focused on hers…

She took another grip of his hand, and let her thumb stroke the back of his hand.

"How do you feel?" her voice seemed fragile.

"Now that you're here…?" Oliver asked, not quite able to cover up the pain he was in, "Good!"

They smiled at each other, and Oliver lifted his hand so that he too could touch his fiancée's pregnant belly. If you knew it, you could see it through the clothes she was wearing. But if you didn't, you'd probably don't offer it a second thought…

"How are you feeling?" his eyes wandered from their hands and up to Felicity's eyes.

"Now that my fiancé is here, and I know he's safe… We're good…"

She bent down and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. Oliver tried following her lips as she drew back from it, but his mangled body screamed at him and he fell back against his pillow. Moaning at the ripping sensation from pretty much all of his wounds.

"Relax…" Felicity reached up and brushed away a stray tear that had escaped Oliver's left eye at his last run in with pain. "You need your rest!"

"Want to climb into bed with me then?" he asked with a smile while he patted the left side of his bed, with his cast-clad hand.

"You do remember that your leg is broken, and not in cast yet…?

"So…?"

"It'll hurt you…" she patted his hand once again, "I don't want to hurt you!"

Instead of agreeing, and climbing in beside her boyfriend, she found a chair and sat as close as possible to his bed.

…

After a great while, a familiar voice spoke from the door.

"You feeling better now?" John Diggle asked leaning against the right side of the doorframe, and on the other side of the extra wide door Barry leaned. He was walking around with one of those medicine bag hanger thingies…

Oliver nodded, his leg was kept still and the edges of the fractures didn't jar across each other anymore. That helped a lot!

"What's that thing?" he then asked motioning to the bag hanger Barry walked around with.

"I ran empty…" he sighed, "I needed a refill... I think this is proteins…"

Oliver, still a little hazy from pain only managed a confused look.

"Forgot to eat… Affects me a bit different from normal people…"

"Ahhh… Right…"

"How's Roy?"

"He's resting. He had surgery to his elbow… Other than that... He's alright…" Diggle answered him.

"Good…" Oliver set his eyes on Diggle, "How about you?"

"I pretty much needed a warm shower, a hot soup and some warm clothes… Nothing dangerous..." he smiled and fully entered the room. He found a place to sit on the windowsill…

…

Diggle winced in sympathy as he saw Oliver tried adjusting his position in the bed. Not a smart move… Not at all!

Oliver would have a hard time for the next couple of weeks. He knew how much Oliver hate to sit still… Six to eight weeks with cast and crutches would be a torture as bad as the one he had been exposed to during the last couple of days…

Oliver was bound to go out of his mind before he was completely healed…

* * *

**Well... I hope you liked this chap!**

**And once again; thanks for all the awesome reviews! **


	23. WORTH IT

**Guess what!  
Here's another chapter for you guys! Sorry that I went all radio silence on you! I went on a trip to America, (didn't have my computer...) And now I'm back home... (Where I really don't have a decent web-connection...)  
I'm sorry...**

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Roy was finally up and around again. He had spent the past two days mostly in bed, but now he was allowed to walk around on his own. So he was going to visit Oliver.

The others had told him how he was holding up, they had told him that he was doing 'fine'. That he was out of the woods, and only waited for his injuries to heal. Potentially going crazy in the process…

His arm sported a slow, dull ache. Not like it had earlier, when it had been excruciating, stabbing pain… This was so much more manageable. Almost comfortable…  
He chuckled at himself. No one should ever call this comfortable…

He reached the door to Oliver's room. Stopped and waited a few seconds before he went in. He somehow felt he had to build up his courage… Didn't know why, but he felt the need for it…

Oliver was asleep when he entered the room. Felicity, Barry and Diggle had all gone to the cafeteria. He felt out of place. Like an intruder… It felt wrong to just enter Oliver's room like this when he was sleeping.

A spot on the floor creaked as he placed weight on it. It wasn't that loud, but he wasn't surprised to see that Oliver had noticed it and were looking straight at him. He was, after all, Oliver Queen…

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up…" Roy apologized, "You probably need all the rest you can get…"

Oliver smiled at him, like nothing were wrong…

"I've got a couple more weeks to do nothing but sleeping… I don't mind!" he paused and looked up at Roy again. "And you…? You look like you could use about a full month of sleep yourself!"

Roy chuckled. "I just hope that I look better than you do at the moment!"

"Oh yeah?" Oliver's eyebrow jumped, "How do I look?"

"Imagine something that has been dead for about five days, then dragged through the mud and then stitched back together again…" Roy managed to say it without cracking up, he was amazed by himself. He would have sworn that he would start laughing after the 'dead for about five days' part.

One second.  
Oliver's puzzled look was amusing.

Two seconds.  
His nose itched, and Oliver's look was still very amusing.

Three seconds.  
Something made his midriff contract, multiple times. And the sound that rolled out of his mouth was known as laughter. He had no control anymore. None!

It was contagious, even when a more of your ribs are broken than not, it's contagious. Roy's laughter was one of the best things he had heard in the past 48 hours, the past week for that matter… (Well, maybe with the exception of Felicity's sweet voice…) He didn't care that his ribs felt like they were on fire as he too started laughing.

"No, no… Relax…" Oliver said between gasps for air (due to laughing too much), "You just look like you went skydiving and forgot your parachute, but found a couple of branches on your way down!"

The humor was BAD. It was HORRIBLE! It was the kind of humor you might come up with when you're a bit too close to a person… And it was in some kind of sick, twisted way; GOOD!

…

A few minutes later, when they had quieted down and stopped laughing at their own silliness. Roy looked Oliver straight in the eyes again.

"How do you feel?" the question had been weighing on his mind since they had parted.

"Good, I'm good!" Oliver said with a content tone, as he rested his head back onto the pillow. "How about you? Is your arm bothering you?"

"No, my elbow is all right… It's much better now that it's set, and well you know… Immobilized…" Roy ranted…

Oliver nodded, and for a couple of minutes they sat in silence.

"I hope you're not mad at me…" Roy's voice finally broke the silence once again. It had gone from the smooth, joking tone he had earlier, into a small and broken shadow of his voice.

Oliver's head jerked up. "Mad at you? Why should I be mad at you?"

"You got hurt. You got hurt real bad…" Roy sniffled, "It was my fault we got caught…"

"No, it's not!"

"YEAH! It IS!" Roy stood back up, wobbling a bit since his brain wasn't prepared for the sudden motion. "My front tire touched yours right before we went down. It is my fault!"

"Look, it's not your fault!" Oliver didn't care whose fault it was that they got captured. It really didn't matter… For all he knew they could have gotten into a head on collision with a semi-truck half a mile later. This way, well… They were still alive, and that was what mattered!

"Can't you see that it's MY fault that you're injured!"

"Roy, I DON'T CARE!" Oliver emphasized 'I-don't-care' as much as possible, "I am the reason you got tortured!"

"I don't care about that!" Roy said in a hurry, "All of this wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been as close to you when we tried to get away from those guys in the first place!"

"…And again; All of that wouldn't have happened if I hadn't introduced you to what we do!"

Roy stopped short, his brow was creased, deep in thought…

"I like what we do…" he finally said, "It makes a difference… It's worth it!"

Oliver couldn't help but smile. That was his thought exactly.

He adjusted his position in his bed, and hissed as a lightning bolt of pain assaulted him.

"Yeah… It's worth it!" he agreed as soon as he got past the worst of the pain.

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**Well... I hope you liked it!  
I can't PROMISE any more chapters for this story. (It might happen, but I can't promise...)  
(As for my other stories, I won't promise any updates for a while. Due to the whole; It's summer and I have to use my cellphone to get access to the web thingy...)**

**Last but not least:  
THANK YOU ALL SO FRIGGIN MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! I'M AMAZED BY IT! I STILL CAN'T QUITE BELIEVE IT! THANK YOU!**


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